


we can try

by DismantledSun



Series: Clem Blurbs [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 01:55:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7020967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DismantledSun/pseuds/DismantledSun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Since when do you smoke?"</p>
<p>"Since you broke my heart."</p>
            </blockquote>





	we can try

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by [reyann](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pilotmikey/pseuds/pilotmikey) giving me the sentence, "Since when do you smoke?"

"Since when do you smoke?" Luke asked, voice obstructed by the beer bottle hovering just in front of his mouth. His lips curled into the smirk that sat so prettily on his face, eyes concerned, but that smirk was always there.

"Since you broke my heart, asshole," Michael said bitterly, cigarette falling limply in his fingers. He looked to Luke, seeking some sign of remorse, but found nothing. This was why he smoked – he needed something to cloud his mind.

"Y'know, that'll hurt you in the long run," Luke said, shrugging indifferently. He took a sip of his drink, eyes never leaving Michael's face. Michael just raised his cigarette to his lips and waited until until his lungs couldn't hold any more smoke before releasing it with a weary sigh. At least he made sure to keep the smoke from wafting into Luke's face. Michael would be the bigger person – Michael _was_ the bigger person.

"Lord knows I can't be much more broken," Michael muttered, although he couldn't be bothered to give a shit if Luke heard him. Michael had had quite the 'Luke can go fuck himself' mentality as of late, and to hell if Luke realized.

"What was that?" Luke asked, attention snapping to Michael as though something held his interest far more than Michael did, but he hadn't quite abandoned the conversation. It was nothing out of the ordinary, as much as Michael loathed to admit.

"Hmm? Oh, I was just muttering about the tragedy that is my life," Michael said, waving his cigarette in the air, watching the smoke swirl around with it; it was just as burned away and charred as how he felt. "Enjoy your shitty one."

Michael heard Luke calling after him, trying to get his attention, but Michael just raised his middle finger before pushing out the door of the bar. He just wanted to drink and smoke himself into the ground, but of course Luke had to screw that up for him too. Michael was so done with Luke, with his pretty face, blue eyes, and mouth that was surely sin. His mother always told him to cut the negativity out of his life, and Michael found no fault hacking away at memories of Luke until none were left. It wasn't his fault Luke kept coming back. He was done with Luke since the day he threw the picture of the two of them at a wall. Granted, the dent didn't exactly help him forget. Maybe he was just exceptionally good at fucking everything up.

At least Calum was there for him, all soft eyes, shitty advice, and lame jokes that shouldn't have been funny but made Michael laugh anyway. Calum was there to clean up the glass from the picture frame and make sure Michael took care of himself, although it was more of Calum taking care of Michael. The endless meals of mac-n-cheese hardly made Michael complain though. Calum made for good company, and he started to fill the empty hole Luke left in Michael's chest. The smoking was the small hiccup in Calum helping Michael get better, though, but as long as he wasn't running amok when he was high, Calum let Michael cope however he'd like.

Sometimes Michael felt that he didn't deserve Calum, the big puppy dog of a man who was too kindhearted for Michael's brashness. He was the one who sat Michael down and said that if Luke broke his heart then Luke could go fuck himself. Calum said that Michael was the important one, not Luke. Michael would never let Calum see his selfish little smile at being the priority; it was nice, despite how guilty Michael felt. Their trio was torn apart, but Calum chose Michael. Calum would always choose Michael.

Once he left from the door of the bar, the cool air of the approaching night sobered him undesirably. Luke was still in there, fucking around, likely to impress all of the other occupants once he was drunk enough to do karaoke. Michael hated it. He hated how Luke was out living his life like Michael was just some stranger he accidentally ran into on the street. Was there no remorse at screwing up their relationship, any at all?

Michael hated how he was still so enraptured by Luke. His pretty face, rich voice, and smirk that somehow caused his dimples to surface, sin and beauty wrapped in one, and Michael was done for. He hated it. He hated Luke.

He hated loving Luke.

Pulling out his pack, Michael grabbed another cigarette, circling around to the side of the building where he could smoke. His hands shook as he tried to spark the lighter, desperate for nicotine to flood his veins but too disgruntled by thoughts of Luke to ease his nerves. Frustration filled him, at Luke, at the lighter, at himself. He was hardly wrong when he said he was broken.

"Are you alright," Luke asked, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. There was genuine concern in his voice – he looked like the Luke that Michael knew.

"Will you just fuck off already?" Michael said, rather lackluster from his usual anger towards Luke. "I don't need any snide remarks, you commenting on my oh so healthy habits, or anything in between. Just leave my life already. Please."

"Michael, I–"

"You broke my heart, Luke. And it's funny how watching every other piece to me fall to bits makes my heart feel almost whole again. Or at least it's numb enough that I can't feel anything. Why do you keep showing up, Luke? It makes everything hurt again."

"Michael, I didn't mean to," Luke started, voice small like he was telling a secret he really wasn't ready to share.

"You can't pull that, Luke. You sure as hell can't say that like some sort of apology. Where was that when I was on the floor sobbing and you walked away?"

"I was scared."

"You? Scared? That's funny," Michael said, a bitter laugh escaping his chest. "Luke, you're the boy who tells someone you love them five minutes after meeting them, but as soon as it means something you run away.

"I loved you. I still do, despite myself, and I think I always will. You took my dream of happiness and ripped it to shreds. It's hard to put that all back together when the pieces are already scattering in the wind."

Luke dropped his eyes to the ground, his feet tipping inwards as he tried to make himself smaller. Michael finally saw the hint of remorse, seizing control of Luke as it shed away his layers of façades. He looked genuinely broken – not quite the same as how Michael was, but broken in his own way.

"Can we talk somewhere else?" Luke asked, hopeful. A visible sigh shook his shoulders when Michael begrudgingly nodded that they could.

They made their way down the streets side by side, the schisms between them leaving silence. Michael followed Luke, eyes watching as his feet crossed one after the other over the pavement. It seemed so familiar, but now he was walking with a stranger.

Luke guided them to the nearby park, the lamp lights leaving halos of artificial light. Everything was washed with a dreariness yet seemed so fabricated. It made Michael upset; the park almost represented how deteriorated his life had become.

They sat on the nearest bench, inches between them as Michael pressed his side into the arm rest. It was so silent, the sounds of the night droning into a haze.

"You're an asshole," Michael said, face tipped down to the grass.

"I know."

"You broke my heart."

"I know."

"You walked away after all those times when you said you wouldn't."

"I know," Luke said, the smoothness of his voice breaking down. "I know, and I can see how broken you are. I have to live with that the rest of my life, and that hardly seems like a fit punishment. You were my world and I tore you down. How am I still standing?"

"God, we're a mess," Michael said with a bitter laugh. Their conversation didn't feel as strained. It wasn't like before, but it was progress – a small step in a closer direction.

"At least we were a mess together," Luke offered, voice lilting up into a question. A small smile played at his lips causing Michael to turn away rather quickly.

"Those were the days," Michael said sarcastically.

"They really were," Luke said with no hint of regret whatsoever. His fond smile grew.

"What?"

"They were the days. They were the best days of my life."

Michael was taken aback, mouth agape as he stared at Luke. How could Luke say that only to throw it away so carelessly?

"You make me so happy, Mikey. You did then, and you do now. And I was such an idiot for just walking away. You said you loved me, and I just ran until I couldn't run anymore. Do you know why? I loved you too and I was so scared that being in love meant being held back. But, fuck, being in love with you was so freeing. Leaving held me back because I didn't realize how much I was myself until I didn't have you supporting me. Being alone was the worst decision I will have ever made."

"Luke, it's not the same anymore," Michael began carefully, speech slow.

"It would be surreal if it was."

"And I don't think it ever will be," Michael continued, thinking well before he said anything. "But we can still try."

"What?"

"We can try. We fucked it up–"

"I fucked it up."

"You fucked it up, but we can still try." Michael smiled, small and private, before looking over to Luke. "Just don't fuck it up again."

"You'll be begging me to leave," Luke said, with a similar smile.

"I never want you to leave again."

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out on [tumblr](http://petalmikey.tumblr.com)! If you send me a prompt, the blurb might just show up here one day!


End file.
